


Meant to Be Heard

by JessicaMDawn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Merlin is older than Arthur, Non-Chronological, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaMDawn/pseuds/JessicaMDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Penderson meets the eccentric Merlin Emrys when he is twenty. While getting to know him, Arthur happens to hear strange things coming out of Merlin's mouth when he isn't looking but can't figure out what they mean. Reincarnation fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant to Be Heard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alessariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessariel/gifts).



> Written for alessariel for the prompt "Things you said that I wasn't meant to hear." The request was for Merthur, Sabriel, or Destiel. I don't know nearly enough of Gabriel to attempt the Sabriel and I feel wanting in knowledge of all that has been said and unsaid between Cas and Dean, so I'll be going with Merthur this time. Hope you like!
> 
> Also, I found out it's her birthday (or was, yesterday, for her) so an extra special HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALESSARIEL!
> 
> And lastly, the events of this story are told out of order. Arthur's age in each scene is given for reference.

**9 years**

His name wasn't Arthur. He was sent to the Home as an infant, and they called him Ryan. He hated every mention of that name.

Ryan, did you finish your homework? Ryan, help with the dishes, please. Ryan, listen to the older kids. Ryan, stop watching so much telly. Why don't you go play with the other children, Ryan? Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. Ryan Jones, why are you so angry?

Although, other than the awful name they gave him, the Home was alright. Arthur won every fundraiser he took part in because people always seemed to buy the most from him. Things he'd lost had a way of coming back to him. He was given special tasks and privileges because he was trustworthy and worked hard at everything he did. But Ryan didn't have any real friends at the Home. He was lonely. He didn't want to stay there until he was ten, let alone until he was eighteen.

When he was nine he was adopted, and he begged his new parents to change his name to Arthur. They were kind and wanted only the best for him, but didn't understand what was wrong with 'Ryan.' He couldn't explain it himself, could only say that he needed his name to be Arthur. And, only a month into Ryan's new life with them, they gave in to his wishes and Ryan Jones legally became Arthur Penderson.

They would later tell him of a professor his new father had in school and how it was because of him that they decided to adopt, and partly due to his spirited ideas that Arthur had received his new name.

…

…

**20 years**

He met Merlin when he was twenty years old. Arthur would never forget a moment of that meeting.

Several of his mates had come together to play and eat and goof off in the park. Kaden was cooking on the smallest grill Arthur had ever seen while Garey and Lanzo were throwing a football around with Arthur. Garey, always one for making trouble for a laugh, hurled the ball at Arthur so that it was just out of possible reach. It flew past him and Kaden, causing the older male to shout in alarm and drop a burger.

"And I suppose now I'm the one to go get that," Arthur said, a mixture of lazy and annoyed.

Garey gave a hapless shrug. "Well you are the closest."

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur hurried after the ball. It had bounced and rolled and slid through the grass and bushes, and Arthur found it just as another man was already bending down to pick it up. Arthur slowed to a stop only a few scant feet from the other man and when he finished standing back upright, their eyes met. Blue on richer, deeper blue. People said Arthur's eyes were open and bright like the sky. This man's eyes were as endless and old and rich as the sea.

For several long moments, Arthur entirely forgot his purpose in running over. He held out his hand and stepped the last few feet between them. "Hello. I'm Arthur," he introduced. "Arthur Penderson."

The other man's lips instantly drew up into a smile, though it was part joyous and part disappointed and Arthur didn't know how that was even possible. Still, he held the football with one hand and shook Arthur's with the other.

"Merlin," he responded. "Merlin Emrys."

He said it like the name 'Emrys' should mean something, but Arthur was more caught on his first name. Merlin was a famous fictional wizard, one Arthur had been quick to learn everything he could about. He'd always felt like Merlin could answer questions Arthur didn't even know he was asking. Like the legends and stories, the name pulled at something in Arthur now and he smiled.

"It's a pleasure," he said.

After several more long moments, Merlin tilted his head and his smile turned amused. He held up the ball. "This is yours?"

Arthur blinked at the football several times before it registered what this ball was. His cheeks flushed. "Oh. Right. Yes." He accepted the ball while he cleared his throat. Merlin's smile was wider now and Arthur didn't know if he should be pleased or peeved about it. "Do you play? You could join us," he offered, not willing to let Merlin leave just yet.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm actually on my way to meet a friend," he said with a sad expression. Arthur began to frown as well but Merlin spoke again before it could fully develop. "I could give you my number, though, and maybe I could join you next time."

It wasn't a question. Merlin wasn't unsure of his welcome. Arthur appreciated that and jumped to accept – though not literally, obviously. That would've been embarrassing.

"Hey! Stop flirting and bring back the ball!" Garey shouted from next to Lanzo and Kaden. "Perry's on his way over!" He waved wildly in the direction of a very large man walking in their direction. Garey was too far away to see his expression clearly, but Arthur knew it said 'You're gonna get whooped now.'

He shook his head and took out his mobile to take Merlin's number down. After Merlin had given it and Arthur had put his name in, Arthur quickly snapped a picture for the contact and then shot off a text so Merlin would have his number a well.

"There," Arthur said with a smile. "I'll call you soon so we can hang out."

Merlin nodded. "I look forward to it."

Arthur walked backwards for several steps, unwilling to look away from Merlin at first, before turning and hurrying back to his friends. As he got further away, he heard Merlin speak, but didn't understand what it meant and figured Merlin hadn't meant for him to hear it anyway. Perhaps he was talking on a Bluetooth or some such device.

"A much better prince at this age than you were last time."

…

…

**22 years**

They'd been together three months, known each other for two years, when Arthur introduced Merlin to his parents.

Well, they weren't his parents. They were his adopted parents.

And Merlin had met them before, just never as Arthur's boyfriend.

"I'll admit," Arthur's father, Alden, had said when they'd been found kissing on the front porch, "I never thought you'd be with an older man, Arthur." Which wasn't really fair, since Merlin was only twenty-six, a mere four years older than him.

The kiss had been meant to give Arthur his courage back, it having stalled out just at the door to his parents' house. It was simply their luck that the door opened right when their lips met, taking the need for words to admit their relationship from them.

"You're not surprised?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

Shaking his head, Alden ushered them inside. Shelly, Arthur's mother, met them in the living room. One particular look from her husband and a gleam came to her eyes.

"Oh! I was wondering how long it would take you boys!" she exclaimed, standing and clapping her hands.

Now Arthur was completely baffled. "You're not upset? At all?"

She gave a tsk. "Arthur, I've noticed the way Merlin looks at you from the moment I met him." Merlin's cheeks turned bright red. "It was you who held things up. Two years, Arthur, really? He's such a fine man, and very well off for someone so young."

Arthur's jaw dropped open but Merlin didn't seem to react at all. "Mother! I'm not with him because he's rich!" He frowned. "I'm with him because-because-"

There was a pause, with everyone waiting for Arthur to continue. Now, with Arthur's floundering, is when Alden began to frown at him disapprovingly.

"Speak up, Arthur. If you're making a decision, if you believe in something, then stand up for it. Don't waver."

It was something his old professor had told him before he passed away, Alden always said. It had impressed him so much that Alden then repeated it to Arthur at every opportunity growing up. An old man with a penchant for pointy hats, Alden kept reminding him with every retelling.

Arthur glanced back at Merlin, standing in the entrance to the living room. He'd never been good at discussing his feelings, and proclaiming them out loud in front of everyone whose opinion on the matter he cared about was a bit daunting. Merlin didn't nod at him or smile or make any motions. He never had to.

Like the old Merlin from Arthurian legends, whom Arthur had studied since he could first read, the young, flesh and blood Merlin standing before him could give Arthur answers before he ever asked the questions. His eyes expressed so much, seemed to murmur and scream and smile and cry by degrees, sending messages not to Arthur's head but to his heart. The one he was shown now told him Merlin was behind him 100%, that he already knew every word Arthur could possibly say, and he was proud of him.

There was a small ruckus outside, the sound of metal bins falling over, and everyone's eyes were drawn to the window for a moment. Everyone but Merlin, who could keep focus through a hurricane and who kept his eyes on Arthur.

"Don't hold your tongue on my account, my lord," Merlin murmured while there was noise to cover it up. "You won't embarrass me."

Arthur hadn't looked, but he knew Merlin had said it. It was one of a dozen random, strange things Merlin said when he thought Arthur couldn't hear him. More and more, Arthur knew he wasn't hearing things, imagining it. Merlin called him 'sire' and 'my lord,' mentioned knights and nobles like they were common place. He referenced stocks and cells, and used words that Arthur had to go look up to know they were insults that hadn't been in common use in hundreds of years. And he always did it when Arthur was almost out of earshot, when music or a movie or other sounds could cover it up, or when he thought Arthur was sleeping.

It was an ongoing mission to catch him in the act and call him on it. Despite everything, all of Merlin assurances, Arthur still couldn't ask Merlin about something like this – something he obviously wanted to be kept secret. If Arthur asked, Merlin would explain himself, but something kept Arthur's tongue still in his mouth whenever it came up.

Arthur's tongue was not still when his parents turned their attention back to him though.

"I'm with him because I care for him. Quite a lot, actually," he said, determinedly. "He is thoughtful, strong, but clumsy and forgetful, too. He makes me laugh and he cares about me in return. He could have no money, no home, nothing to offer me but that, and I wouldn't mind. So while I appreciate how well you're both taking this, I'd rather you not talk about us if you can't respect that."

For several moments, his parents were silent. Arthur did his best not to swallow too hard and give away his nerves. These may not be his birth parents, but they were the closest he had and he would love them forever for the gracious and loving home they'd given him.

Alden beamed and clapped Arthur on the shoulders. "Now that's a speech," he said cheerily before wrapping Arthur in a hug.

Shelly was across the room pulling Merlin into a hug that made his tall frame bend nearly in half to fit into the arms of her small one. It was a sight that had always amused Arthur, and it made him smile now.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," she apologized to Merlin. "I did not mean to say Arthur only cared for your money. I only meant-"

Merlin chuckled and squeezed her tight, cutting off her explanation. "I know. And believe me, I know how Arthur feels and I know my money isn't the big draw."

"I'm more fond of his ears than his bank account. They're bigger, after all," Arthur teased, pulling away from his father's bear hug to go give Merlin's right ear a light tug. It was an old game between them and he knew that Merlin knew there was no harm meant by it.

He was gratified by the bright flush that over took every inch of Merlin's visible pale skin and leaned in to plant a kiss to his cheek, which made his mother sigh in happiness.

…

…

**21 years**

Merlin's apartment was much bigger than Arthur's so they usually met up for nights in and group events at his place. His pantry was always well stocked, he had a much larger movie collection than anyone Arthur knew, his sofa was comfier, he had all the local delivery places on speed dial, and he had a great view of the city through any window in the apartment.

"Oh my god, you're rich," Arthur had let out in shock the first time he'd been over, about a month into their acquaintance.

Merlin's only response was a shrug as they rode the lift up to the fifth floor where his apartment was.

After almost twelve months of knowing him, eleven of visiting the apartment regularly, Arthur was used to Merlin's home. His friends still blanched whenever they came over with him, but for him it was now simply 'Merlin's apartment' and normal.

Tonight they were going to watch a movie, and it was Merlin's turn to pick. They took turns, but Arthur often got the impression that Merlin always picked movies Arthur wanted. It was impossible, but from the first movie night, Merlin had seemed to know exactly what kind of movies Arthur liked. His favorites in every genre were on Merlin's shelves among dozens he'd never heard of, and there had yet to be a night when Merlin put in an unknown movie, new or old or somewhere in between, that Arthur hadn't immediately loved.

"Pick a movie. I'll order the food," Arthur said, heading for the phone on the counter. A landline, of all things to find in a rich flat.

From behind him came a mumbled yet gracious, "As you wish, sire." But when Arthur turned around, Merlin was already at the movie shelves and scanning the titles, as if he'd never said a word. Shaking his head, Arthur started dialing for Indian food.

"You're a bit weird, Merlin," Arthur admitted when the call was done and he was falling onto the couch.

Merlin was just pushing the DVD into the player at that moment and didn't look at Arthur as he asked, "How's that?"

Arthur shrugged. "Sometimes, you say the strangest things." He waved a hand about as Merlin rejoined him. "Or I think you do. I hear it, but when I look, you aren't talking."

Now Merlin grinned. "Should we cancel the food and take you to a psychologist, Arthur?"

Pushing Merlin's face away, feeling him laugh against the skin of his hand, was obviously Arthur's only possible course of action.

"I'm not schizophrenic, you lout," he started, even while Merlin was still grinning at his own wit. "I swear you say something, but it's always so odd I feel strange asking you to repeat yourself."

Looking much more serious than a moment ago, though Arthur couldn't tell if it was real or feigned seriousness, Merlin nodded. "You can ask me anything, Arthur. No matter what it is, I'll tell you the truth. I wouldn't lie to you."

Serious or not, the sincerity of Merlin's words gave Arthur pause. Merlin truly meant it. If Arthur asked him something, right now, he would answer completely and honestly.

Turning on the couch so he was fully facing Merlin, Arthur took a deep breath, which Merlin matched. There were so many things he could ask. Merlin didn't talk about his childhood but in the vaguest ways. He mentioned past relationships when they related to something one of the guys was saying, but never names or how old he was or anything too specific. While Arthur knew a lot about Merlin, he also realized he knew nothing about Merlin either.

He liked Merlin, but he'd been afraid of taking their relationship to another level. He didn't know if Merlin liked him that way, if Merlin wanted Arthur the way Arthur wanted Merlin. He could ask about Merlin's feelings.

"Who's your favorite Bond girl?"

Without hesitation, Merlin responded, expression flat, "Q."

A laugh burst out of Arthur. "Q isn't a Bond girl! And he's so old!"

Merlin smiled. "No, but you have to admit that Ben Whishaw is cuter than many Bond girls."

Their laughter and debating about the actors in the different Bond movies removed any further tension and seriousness from the room, and the moment passed away.

…

…

**20 years**

Arthur had decided, after the first time, that he would never challenge Merlin to a drinking contest ever again.

Merlin could drink anyone under the table. It didn't matter if he was drinking one glass to theirs or two to theirs, he always looked perfectly sober and healthy even after his friends were lying on the floor talking in baby babble.

The first time, two weeks after they met each other, Arthur had arrived at the bar before the others and found Merlin had already claimed a booth for them. He slid into the seat next to Merlin rather than across from him.

"You order yet?" he asked.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes. I thought I'd order drinks for people I've only met once. I'm sure I know what they want." He held up his hand to call a server over. "You can order for your macho friends."

Arthur laughed. "Soon they'll be your friends too," he assured Merlin. "Besides, you could've invited some of your own friends too."

A shrug. "This isn't their scene."

Garey and Perry showed up next and Perry waved at him with a, "Hey, Penn, sorry we're late. Work at the shelter ran late. Had some new arrivals needed our help."

"Always surrounded by knights, you are."

Arthur turned from where his friends were walking closer to look at Merlin. "Did you say something?"

Merlin shook his head, looking just a shade confused. "No?"

Shrugging, Arthur faced the other way just as Garey and Perry reached them. Re-introductions were made since they'd only met once before, though Garey insisted he didn't need it because he was simply that amazing, and shortly after that Lanzo, Kaden, and Eric showed up and the process was repeated again.

It was Garey who suggested the drinking contest, and only him who would continue the contest every time they went out for drinks afterward. Everyone else learned their lesson.

Arthur hated his life the next morning, couldn't remember how he got home except that Merlin had been there. He was disappointed that Merlin hadn't stayed over, even though they weren't by any means a couple, but there was water and there were pills and, five minutes after he took the medicine, there was a text from Merlin asking after his head, so he was satisfied.

…

…

**22 years**

In the morning, Arthur would get up and make breakfast. He'd tell Merlin over eggs and toast with jam that he wanted their 'one-time thing' to become a real thing, that he wanted to date Merlin properly. Merlin would tease him about courting someone in this day and age and Arthur would protest that it still matters, no matter what the tabloids say.

Later, Eric would commend him on finally making a move. Garey would say he's a real man now. Lanzo would offer congratulations and ask him for the full romantic story of how Arthur finally realized his feelings for Merlin.

But all of that will come after tonight. After Arthur and Merlin had left their friends at a club trying to hold on to their youth even though university is over. After they had celebrated knowing each other for two full years with alcohol and loud music and too much dancing. After Merlin deposited Arthur in his bed and Arthur begged him to stay, just this once, with a kiss and Merlin gave him everything he had ever wanted in a lover.

And Arthur would have to accept all the pride and admiration from his mates, and from Merlin, for owning up to his feelings and making this tenuous but powerful thing between him and Merlin into something solid and lasting. But the truth is that, in the dark of the night, sated and on the edge of sleep, Arthur got his courage and will to hold on to this – their relationship – from Merlin.

Merlin draped himself over Arthur, leaning down to kiss Arthur's shoulder. Arthur let out a half hum, too asleep for anything else. Curling up into Arthur's over-warm body, Merlin whispered, "I love you," into the skin at the back of Arthur's neck.

World hazy as it was, Arthur heard him, and Arthur would remember that confession, and it softened his heart enough to let him have what he'd wanted since the first time he saw Merlin in the park.

"I'll love you forever, Arthur."

…

…

**24 years**

It had long since passed when Merlin gave Arthur a key to his apartment. Arthur liked popping in to surprise Merlin and Merlin seemed to enjoy being surprised. Today, however, was the first time Arthur had come in to a completely dark apartment.

"Merlin?" he called out, not overly loud. "Where are you?"

Merlin didn't have work this evening, so he should've been home. Most of the time when Arthur came in, Merlin was reading some obscure book in a language Arthur couldn't understand or practicing some hobby Arthur had never considered worth learning – like crocheting or making art with plastic spoons or, one memorable time, candle making the old fashioned way, dipping wicks into pots of liquid wax dozens of times and hanging them to dry all over the apartment. Now, the apartment was dark and silent.

Arthur turned a light on and then a sound came from further into the apartment that might have been his name. Arthur stepped quickly but quietly toward it. He was worried now. Was Merlin injured? Had someone broken in? Nothing was stolen or damaged, but it was possible.

He found Merlin in the bedroom, though at first he could not see him. Merlin was curled up on the floor on the far side of the bed, head hidden by his arms, in the same jeans and button up shirt he'd worn yesterday.

"Merlin, there you are," Arthur let out in relief, but it was short lived. Merlin didn't respond to Arthur's voice. "Merlin?"

As Arthur stepped quickly across the room, Merlin began murmuring to himself. They weren't words Arthur understood, might not even be words at all, just sounds, but he kept muttering faster and faster but quieter and quieter.

Arthur knelt down in front of Merlin but hesitated to touch him. He didn't know what was wrong. He'd heard that sometimes, you shouldn't touch a person who was having an episode of….well, Arthur couldn't remember what, sleepwalking or seizures or something else, but something was definitely wrong with Merlin and touching might hurt more than help.

"Merlin?" he asked.

The muttering stopped abruptly. Arthur would have thought Merlin had a phone under his arms because he thought he saw a faint light, but his hands were in his hair so that wasn't possible.

"What's the matter? Should I do something?"

Arthur was a writer for journals and mythology books, not a doctor. He was completely out of his element.

"Arthur."

It didn't sound like he was talking to Arthur, but rather wishing Arthur were there.

"I'm here, Merlin. Merlin, it's me. Look at me, Merlin."

He'd read somewhere that saying someone's name if they were high helped ground them and remind them of who and where they were. Merlin may not be high, but Arthur desperately hoped the same was true for whatever was wrong with Merlin.

"Please remember me." It was a plea, a whine, and a sob all at the same time. He still wasn't talking to the Arthur sitting in front of him. "Arthur."

Arthur let out a breath. "Of course I remember you, Merlin," he said. Now, he reached out for his boyfriend. A hand on his shoulder, a motion to bring Merlin close to him in a hug that never followed through. As soon as he touched Merlin, something changed.

Merlin was sitting on a forest floor against a tree, brown trousers, faded and torn blue shirt, red kerchief around his neck. He was dirty, he was thin, he had been crying. Arthur was the cause. Arthur had done something, or said something, or had something done to him, and Merlin was paying the price.

He removed his hand from Merlin's shoulder. Merlin was on the floor of his bedroom in day old clothes once more, arms still covering his head and hiding his face, but everything about Arthur had changed.

He remembered dying. A stab wound with an enchanted blade, a broken shard stuck in his gut that Merlin couldn't heal. "Hold me," he'd asked, and Merlin had wept and done so, begging him to stay with everything that he was, but Arthur couldn't. Merlin looked the same age he was now, but weakened by anguish.

And now all the strange things Merlin ever said to him made sense. All the princes, kings, sires, my lords, knights, medieval references, and the old slang. Merlin had been living with the knowledge of who and what they were the whole time, waiting on Arthur to catch up.

"Merlin?" he asked, wonder at this new, old knowledge he now had seeping into his voice.

There was a subtle shift in Merlin's posture that said he'd heard Arthur this time. He lowered his arms, slowly, like waking from a sleep when you'd been in an odd position all night, and lifted too blue eyes to meet Arthur's.

"Arthur?" he asked. His eyes widened. "Did you…hear all that?"

Arthur nodded and Merlin's expression paled.

"Why didn't you tell me, Merlin?" Arthur asked. "Four years now, I've heard you muttering behind my back and yet I knew nothing."

Now Merlin's eyes were wide in a totally different way. "You know?"

"Just now, but yes. And I'm holding it against you that you never said anything to me," Arthur told him sternly.

Cautiously, a smile crept over Merlin's face. "I did say it to you. You just weren't meant to hear."

…

…

**0 years**

He was barely an hour old, freshly cleaned and wrapped in soft cloth. His little arms waved around as much as he could get them to, figuring out how big his bed was, trying to find where that light came from, and generally exploring as much as an infant incapable of mobility could.

He had no way of knowing that his birth had been due to the death of both of his parents, no way of knowing he had no one to claim him in the morning.

There was soft music playing somewhere, lulling all the babies to sleep. Inevitably one of them would wake from hunger, or a nurse would come and pick one up and wake them accidentally, and then there would be crying and nurses to try and calm them. For now, their tiny little eyes were drifting closed, into a dreamland only newborns know.

As he was being washed away on the waves of sleep, a shadow blocked the faint light above him. A pleased hum of noise was barely audible over the music, but his ears managed to catch it.

"It's so good to see you again," a deep but soothing voice called down to him in a whisper.

He scrunched his face up, knowing he knew that voice but at the same time not knowing it at all, and a warmth touched his wrinkling forehead. It traced around his face, soothing away any tension he held in his tiny body. When the warmth neared his hand, he used all the strength and dexterity allowed by his newborn frame and tried his best to grab hold. His efforts earned him a small, elated laugh from above that made him smile a toothless, wide smile.

"Oh, I've missed you so much," the voice murmured, happy but choked up. "I'll do everything I can for you, Arthur. I promise."

Arthur. Yes. That was his name.

…

…

fin.


End file.
